Some time ago I attended a writer’s workshop. After the morning sessions, I tagged along with a few of the others for lunch at the student union. We all chatted while standing in line with our food trays and dinnerware. Walter, a writer in our group, came over and introduced himself while I searched for a clean utensil from a metal cup.

“You sure ask a lot of questions,” he said.

I found a clean knife. “Yes. I know. Sometimes it just doesn’t come easy for me, especially that diagramming plot stuff. I write like I drive – reckless and without a map.”  

While we sidestepped down the buffet line, sliding our clacking plastic trays along the steel shelf, I introduced myself. “I write fantasy, mystery and adventure kind of stuff. What are you into, Walt?”

He stopped and said, “Please. My name is Walter, Tom. Well, let’s see. I have an MFA from Saint Somebody University, and I’ve had two books published, so far. I write historical religious non-fiction.

“Wow. Just like the guys who wrote the Bible? Well, I guess lunch is on you, Walter.” We started sidestepping again.

“I’m not familiar with fantasy. Who are your influences?” Walter asked.

I gave him a big smile and a quick answer. “Mary Jane and Jack Daniels.”

Walter twisted his lips like he was thinking real hard for something kind to say, but he just waited to talk to the next person in line while I ordered my lunch. I could be wrong, but it seemed like he avoided me during lunch and for the remainder of the afternoon sessions.

After dinner that evening, I laid on my hotel bed. The Bee Gees were playing on the radio and I thought about my conversation with Walter. His question about which writers have influenced my work nagged at me.

I think most of us become writers because we love to read. I’m like that, but for years I abandoned my reading of fiction. I became a how-to book junky. All I had been reading were how-to-write books. I have them all: character, plot, setting, dialogue, screenwriting, novels, short stories, queries to editors and agents, market listings. I have the inspirational ones, too. And the books that help you face rejection. I decided right there and then, as Maurice Gibb hit his high note on the radio, to cancel my subscription to the writers’ book clubs. I would read again!

I felt great the next morning and couldn’t wait to share my good news with Walter, but I couldn’t corner him. Luck was on my side, however, because he was in my critique group. Seven of us had exchanged 15 pages of our work and would give each other constructive feedback at a roundtable.

I was working on a short story about this kid who nearly destroyed Earth with an alien weapon that he found in a cemetery.

Fortunately for me, Walter gave his critique of my work last. Up until then, things were pretty positive from the group.

“You were obviously drunk or stoned when you wrote this.” He said. The other writers looked shocked, but I thought Walter was finally showing me a sense of humor.

Walter looked around at the others and said, “He admitted it yesterday at lunch.” He then went on to explain why my story was amateur. It was a chilling few minutes, but I will always remember Walter fondly for getting me off the writers’ book clubs.

Maybe all those how-to books taught me what to look for, I don’t know, but I’ve learned more about how to write by reading great books, ever since that evening with the Bee Gees.

If you’re reading this, Walter, I just want to thank you for my epiphany. Oh, and by the way, I never got to critique your 15 pages because I left the group early that day. Your stuff read like a bad script written for some Middle East Al Jazeera reporter covering the Jewish exodus.

(Originally published November 12, 2007)